Kebab and kebab not
Sir, – Donald Clarke’s piece on the doner kebab craze of yesteryear brought me back to one late winter’s night during the 1980s on the Lower Rathmines Road in Dublin (“The great doner kebab rush of 1982”, Weekend Review, September 2nd). I was on my way home from Slattery’s pub when I decided to use a then new-fangled ATM machine.
Placing my fragrant, piping-hot, carefully wrapped doner kebab on the ledge, I keyed in my numbers to get cash. The cash came out. But then, disaster! A little plastic shield came down, trapping my hotly anticipated kebab behind it. And so I became a donor of a doner, to whomsoever next used that dreadful machine. – Yours, etc,